Binky - racehorse

“We return to Klatch,” said the husband firmly, “where our children can grow up in a proper
country, true to the glorious traditions of our ancient race and men do not need to work as waiters for
wicked masters but can stand tall and proud. And we must leave right now, fragrant blossom of the
date palm.”

“Why so soon, O hardworking son of the desert?”

“Because,” said the man, “I have just sold the Patrician’s champion racehorse.”

The horse wasn’t as fine or as fast as Binky, but it swept the miles away under its hooves and easily
outdistanced a few mounted guards who, for some reason, appeared anxious to talk to Mort. Soon the
shanty suburbs of Morpork were left behind and the road ran out into rich black earth country of the
Sto plain, constructed over eons by the periodic flooding of the great slow Ankh that brought to the
region prosperity, security and chronic arthritis.

***

Mort p50-51